


The Burn Pile

by AnxietyonIce



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Universe, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26369791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnxietyonIce/pseuds/AnxietyonIce
Summary: In which Victor has been threatening to do a What Not to Wear style purge of Yuri’s wardrobe upon moving in together in St. Petersburg and Yuri doesn’t actually own enough clothes to make it worthwhile and Victor is very confused.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 5
Kudos: 223





	The Burn Pile

“Hmmm.”

Yuri looked over at Victor, who had his index finger to his chin and his eyes closed as he mused. He was smiling in a way that warned Yuri to brace himself.

“I think it’s time,” Victor said brightly.

They had just refreshed themselves with cups of tea after putting the last of Yuri’s few belongings away in Victor’s spacious apartment. It was a moment brimming with that exquisite combination of excitement and comfort. They couldn’t stop grinning at each other. Life. Love. Domesticity.

They had spent the better part of the day taking in and negotiating the details together. Yuri’s slippers will go here, his favorite tea in this cabinet, his toothbrush next to Victor’s. (“I should have opted for double sinks,” Victor had lamented. “I suppose I wasn’t very optimistic when I was having this place renovated.” Yuri had assured him that a double sink was not necessary and that the space was put to much better use as a counter to hold Victor’s _many_ high-end skin and hair care products. “But what about when we need to brush our teeth at the same time?” Victor had protested. “Then we share the sink,” Yuri had said simply. Victor liked sharing things with Yuri. The discussion ended.)

Yuri had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to reason his way out of whatever Victor would suggest next. “What is it time for?” Yuri asked cautiously, peering at Victor over the rim of his mug.

“Time to have a look at your wardrobe, I think,” Victor said cheerfully. He got briskly to his feet and held out his hand for Yuri to take. Yuri sighed. Victor had teased this a few times during their conversations about moving in together and all the things they were looking forward to, but Yuri had half assumed and half hoped Victor had been joking.

“I think you’ll be disappointed,” Yuri said, taking Victor’s hand. “They’re just normal clothes.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Victor said, skipping to the bedroom with Yuri in tow.

~

Yuri leaned against the door frame of the walk-in closet where he had put his clothes away a few hours earlier. During that time, Victor had been rambling happily about local restaurants and rearranging items in the en suite bathroom, not paying attention. Yuri folded his arms and couldn’t help but smirk when Victor turned to look at him incredulously. 

“ _ Where _ are your clothes?” Victor cried, gesturing wildly to the entire half of the closet he had cleared for Yuri’s things. 

Yuri laughed. “Right here.” He brushed his hand on the couple dozen items on hangers and a handful of garment bags and gestured to the socks and underwear in the drawers beneath. Yuri’s wardrobe took up a comically small fraction of the space and looked almost ashamed to be there.

Victor’s expression shifted in turn from incredulous to confused to suspicious. “I’ve seen you wear other stuff,” he said. 

“Nope,” Yuri shook his head. “It’s all here.”

Victor’s eyes narrowed as he peered at the collection. He was searching for something. 

“That blue shirt…” he muttered.

“I have a lot of blue shirts,” Yuri said. 

“With the dark short sleeves. The one that makes you look twelve years old.”

“Oh, you mean this blue shirt,” Yuri said, revealing the offending garment that was hiding behind one of his Mizuno jackets. 

“Yes!” Victor grabbed the shirt off the hanger and tossed it unceremoniously into a nearby wire bin.

“I hope that’s for laundry,” Yuri said, knowing better.

“Nope! It’s the burn pile,” verified Victor, putting his finger to his chin and starting on one side of Yuri's hung-up clothes. “This will go quickly, at least.”

Yuri sighed. “Leave the athletic wear, please.”

“Of course, Yuri.  _ But _ if it’s heinous and a few seasons old, it’s gone.”

“I’ve already gotten rid of most of the stuff Mizuno sent me last season,” Yuri said, scratching the back of his head. “The stuff in the white garment bag is all new…”

“Yes yes, Yuri, it’s safe,” Victor assured him, scooting the sponsored athletic wear to the side. He did the same with most of the rest of Yuri’s athletic wear and the new suit Victor bought Yuri for his birthday, and Yuri’s blue peacoat. Next to that coat, however…

“Yuuuuri~” Victor whined in despair. He unhung an over-sized camel brown coat with multiple front pockets. Victor held it in front of his own body and gave Yuri as pitiful a look as he could muster. “I’m so sad! What is this? Why? It's making me so sad! Can we talk about it??”

The truth was that coat had seen Yuri through many cold Detroit winters. It was his daily armor for pinballing between the rink, his classes, and the dormitory. It was his fat coat and safe place. Because it was so roomy, it accommodated any and all weight fluctuations, which other clothes would make him overly aware of. He could wear however many layers he wanted under it, and it would still fit comfortably. It was well-worn and he’d had to mend the underarms a few times, but it had never failed him.

“It’s a potato!” Victor lamented.

Yuri had been looking at the coat in serious reflection, but the comparison was too accurate for him to continue brooding. A giggle escaped.

“Yuri!!” Victor laughed, shaking the coat violently. Yuri smiled watching him. This was the calm, elegant, serious man he had grown up admiring currently having a conniption over Yuri’s favorite piece of outwear.

“Anything else?” Yuri asked Victor, smirking.

Victor snapped back into a neutral, haughty demeanor. “No,” he said casually, tossing the coat into the bin.

“Goodbye,” Yuri whispered to it.

“Don’t look back, Yuri,” Victor cautioned, flicking through Yuri’s small collection of too-big crew neck cotton t-shirts and tossing some into the bin without explanation.

“Did I actually ever agree to this?” Yuri mused.

“Irrelevant,” Victor said, taking a closer look at one of the t-shirts. “What are these stains?”

Yuri shrugged and Victor tossed the t-shirt away with thumb and forefinger. “You are a world-class athlete and absolute specimen,” Victor deigned to explain. “As your coach, your fan, and your lover, I will not allow unworthy threads to touch your skin.”

Warmth pooled in Yuri’s stomach at that and he felt the warmth in his cheeks, too. His blush intensified when he felt Victor peek at him from beneath his silver fringe. It wasn’t fair that Victor always had the audacity to say things like that and earn the sight of an adorably flustered fiance when Yuri could only muster it every once in a while.

Victor took offense to little else in the meager wardrobe. Until…

“Ah yes,” Victor said at last, unzipping an older garment bag, then looking away dramatically as if its contents blinded him. “The suit.”

“The suit,” Yuri agreed with a sigh. “What level of hell must it burn in?”

Victor turned to Yuri suddenly. “I’m quite serious, Yuri,” he said, hand over his heart and eyes earnest. “We  _ are _ burning these.” He gestured to the wire bin, much too large for the number of clothes it contained. Victor had clearly anticipated a mighty purge.

Yuri held up his hands. “If that is your wish.”

“It is,” Victor definitively, dropping the entirety of the suit and blue tie into the bin without breaking eye contact, playfully daring Yuri to defy him. Yuri could only give him a defeated smile.

“Hey Yuri?” Victor said, cocking a hip and looking thoughtful again.

“Yes, Victor?” Yuri answered dutifully. His mild discomfort with the scenario had vanished, and he smiled fondly at Victor, who suddenly almost looked like he might start tearing up. It had been an emotional day, week, month, year.

Whatever Victor had been about to say ebbed away as they made their way toward each other and embraced, simply enjoying the feel and smell of the other so close. There was more to it than their bodies. Their surroundings were now shared. It created a physical closeness that felt next level.

“I thought perhaps you’d put up more of a fight,” Victor said softly into Yuri’s hair. It took Yuri a second to decide what he meant—large-scale or small. It hadn’t taken long for Victor to convince Yuri that moving to St. Petersburg with him was the next right move. After all, it’s what Yuri had always wanted, before Victor had had any idea that Yuri existed.

“They’re just clothes,” Yuri said, pulling back and looking into Victor’s eyes. They were warm and bright, but tinged ever so slightly with a shadow of concern. Yuri wanted to banish it, so he told the truth. “I’m going to miss the potato coat, though.”

“Oh Yuri,” Victor tucked his head into the crook of Yuri’s neck and squeezed him tight. “I’ll buy you a hundred coats more worthy of you.”

“Please don’t,” Yuri laughed, squeezing Victor back just as hard, perhaps harder. It wasn’t a competition. (Or was it?) “Well…” Yuri considered. “Buy me one more coat—the warmest one you can find that is not a potato. Your country is very cold.”


End file.
